There was a rhythmic booming sound from the bridge as they approached it.

Sparrow and Zoe had just walked 20 leagues, their feet ached and their mouths were parched.

And that’s why they stopped by the bridge. If Sparrow had known what was going to happen he would’ve kept them moving, would’ve raced away from that place with every fibre of his being.

But he didn’t know. Sweet, sweet summer child.

They walked down the side of the bridge to the rhythmic tapping and scooped crystal azure water from their hands to their mouths.

Sparrow looked up, ‘what is that banging sound?’

Zoe laughed, ‘it’s music… and damn good music too, someone knows their way around rhythm.

Sparrow stared at her, enjoying the way she enjoyed the beat, ‘You want to go meet them?’

A grin spread over her face, she flicked the water from her hands and grinned, ‘can we? I’d love it.’

‘Sure. I mean, what harm can a musician do?’

He was about to turn when Zoe leapt on his back.

‘More than you know Sparrow, more than you know.’

He piggybacked her over to the bridge, where they found a dark-eyed young man using two pieces of bamboo to bang away at the sides of the bridge.

Underneath the hollow space, the acoustics rippled and swelled with drumbeats melding together into a never ending song.

The pair of them stood transfixed until the guy broke off from his drumming and looked at Zoe.

‘Hey. I’m Zan.’

Zoe jumped from Sparrow’s back, got down on her knees and said mockingly, ‘Oh great Zan, I am but an unworthy student seeking to learn the ways of the master musicians would you take me as a student?’

She looked up at Sparrow and laughed, ‘Do you see what I’m doing?’

Sparrow stared for a minute, ‘You’re being me.’

‘Exactly! That’s what it’s like every time we meet someone new. See how needy it makes you look?’

Sparrow frowned, ‘now that you mention it, yeah. It kind of does.’

‘More than kind of…’ Zoe rolled to her feet, and shook Zan’s hand, ‘Hey, I’m Zoe, nice to meet you.’

Zan looked bewhildered as he shook her hand, ‘Those are musician’s fingers,’ he said.

‘They sure are, ‘ Zoe held them out, ‘Do you play anything besides the bridge?’

Zan laughed, ‘Funny as well as musically inclined, let’s see, last week I played a plant pot, the week before a harp made from jars. I can play anything!’

Zoe pulled the mandolin from her back, ‘You ever played one of these?’

‘Could never afford one.’

‘Well here, give it a try.’

Zan took the mandolin, ‘It’s light!’ he said, his fingers tested themselves, plucking out a few random chords, then stopped.

‘Nice try.’ Zoe reached for the instrument, but Zan held up his hand.

He looked back down at the strings, spread his hand across the frets then started strumming. The beat was tight, and every chord found its pitch.

“I call this one, the bullshit travelling song.” he said.

Well, i’ve been working on becoming what I am,

in this decrepit town.

And these days I’ve been dreaming like I live off trash,

and scammed casino tickets.

Hell, maybe I’d get a job, and a house, and a wife

If the acoustics under this bridge didn’t sound so damn heavenly.

His voice sounded like it had been beaten as a child, dunked in kerosene, and set on fire. It was brutal and raw, and made every hair on Sparrow’s body stand up and take notice. He made the guitar sound like it was weeping. And the bridge bounced everything back to make it sound as though he had a chorus.

The last note had been died a slow death before Sparrow and Zoe stirred from their trance.

Sparrow shook off the sombre feeling that had settled over him, ‘Hell man, you can really play that thing.’

Zan winked, ‘Remember, that’s still my first time, there were a couple moments where I was off ever so slig-’

‘-don’t you dare,’ Zoe pointed her finger at him, ‘don’t you dare say that was your first time, I’ve been playing that damn thing my entire life and I can’t get it to sound half as good as that.’

Zan took a bow, ‘I’m not a very humble person mam, why do you think I’m sitting here under this bridge all alone?’ he gave the guitar a strum, ‘so I’m not afraid to tell you, that I’ve got magic in my fingers, and gold stuffed up my ass.’

Zoe laughed, ‘and he’s even got a way with words?’ she grabbed Sparrow’s arm and hugged it, ‘Can we keep him? Can we?’

Sparrow laughed, ‘oh… you’re serious?’ He scratched the back of his head and looked up at the bridge, ‘Listen, Zoe, I’m not really looking to start a band of weary travellers, I go faster alone.’

‘But you go further together,’ Zoe said, ‘Come on…’

‘Well, we don’t even know if he wants to come with us…’ Sparrow looked up at Zan, ‘You’ve probably got your own thing going on.’

Zan looked from him to Zoe, his fingers idly strummed the mandolin, ‘No… no, I’ve got nothing going on. I’m just here bumming under this bridge.’

He sniffed, and adjusted his jacket - a garment that was more stitches than leather, ‘I’ve got nothing to do. Nowhere to be, you look like fun.’

Zoe grabbed the mandolin, then bowed to him, ‘Welcome to the crew.’

****

Sparrow tried to laugh and joke alongside the others as they walked down a highway under the setting sun.

But dry leaves crackling under his feet represented the way Sparrow felt - a little squashed.

‘So where are you from, Zan?’ he asked.

‘I’m from West Artixian, originally. But spiritually I’m more of a South Westerner, I really vibe with the food down here, and of course, the music…’

Why am I getting knots in my stomach? Sparrow thought, I like the look of Zan. He’s got a good face, a trusty face - so that’s not it. Sparrow tried to focus on what the musician was saying, but his mind kept wandering, I’m nervous because I’m falling into a trap. I’m travelling with people. Not alone, how long has Zoe been with me now… Sparrow glanced up at the moon, a half circle that rose in the East.

She’s been with me at least 10 moon cycles… no… maybe 20. Fear wrenched at Sparrow’s gut. And it’s been good. It’s been good having her with me. I’m not scared of that…

You’re scared that you’ll get comfortable. Another voice in his head said you’re scared that you’ll grow too used to being a part of a group. Nothing wrong with that.

But… there was a sadness in there too, the feeling this was an end of an era.

‘Maybe that’s the end of my days wandering alone.’ Sparrow said.

The other two looked up at him, he stared back.

‘What’d you say Sparrow?’ said Zoe.

‘I… I… nothing.’ Sparrow gazed at the road ahead. The sky was dark, a little light from the moon flickered off the edge of Zoe’s mandoline. Sparrow considered lighting his fists on fire. But no… the darkness was a little too thick for his liking, better to not expose themselves.

The mandoline changed hands, Zan started strumming it again. He was demonstrating some sort of ‘double tapping’ technique that allowed him to play both the melody and harmony at once.

And he’s not bad at it either. Sparrow thought.

They were closing in on another bridge. This one had a large flame at its centre.

‘So… Sparrow, what do you play?’ Zan said.

‘What do I play…’ something passed in front of the flame, some sort of black shadow. Sparrow narrowed his eyes, ‘... I don’t really play anything.’

That made Zan laugh, ‘What the hell? And you guys are travelling together? Are you like, a groupie or something?’

Zoe laughed, ‘Oh no… if anything we’re the groupies Zan.’

‘Yeah, but if he doesn’t even play mus-’

The sound of a club slicing through the air broke his sentence in two.

‘No further.’ The voice said.

It was a little hard to see who the voice belonged to. But three hulking creatures moved from the edge of the bridge towards them.

They were three times the size of Sparrow. And their footsteps shook the ground as they walked.

‘Zoe?’ Sparrow said, not taking his eyes off the creatures, ‘you good?’

He felt Zoe’s hand on his back, ‘I’m good.’

‘Zan?’ Sparrow said, ‘Zan, are you okay?’

But there was no response.

‘Zan? You there?’

Zoe swallowed, ‘I think I heard him running off.’

‘You heard right.’ came a growling, wolfish voice, ‘but he didn’t get far.’